The First Annual Fiction Issue
What Poverty, War, and Hatred Have Done to Central Africa
The country has been torn apart by years of civil war and strife, and its people don't seem to have any faith that their leaders can fix it.
Public Hair
There was a pretty girl sitting with her girlfriends in front of my wife and me. Most of the time all I could see of her was her hair. When you were sitting behind girls in classrooms in grade school, their hair could drive you crazy.
At Chumley's
Since 1928, Chumley's on Bedford Street in Greenwich Village has sat behind an unmarked door. It started as a speakeasy and gradually became the gold standard of writers’ bars in New York.
Music Forever
With their boring name, neat graphics, tasteful website (thestudio.se) and less-than-scintillating answers to our piercing questions (see below), it looks as if Gothenburg duo Studio are trying their hardest to send us off to Snoozeville in the world’s...
Limited Edition Job
I had been tipped off in advance that Dave wanted to see me. A cross between David Koresh and David Ike dressed from head to toe in Japanese street wear brands, Dave was the owner of the trendy clothes shop I worked in.
Thank You From Baghdad
Yesterday (I write this on 6 November 2006) I was handed my verdict in a trial that to me was more of a circus than anything else.
"Gjennom Nattens Identitet" ("Through the Identity of the Nighttime")
This is an excerpt from the book Nasjonalsatanisten (The National Satanist) by Erlend Erichsen, translated for Vice.
Out By Holy Land
I hate Stew but he sells weed. So one Saturday, me, Mike, and Mike’s brother Ross drive Stew’s fuck-friend Boudreau out to Stew’s house to cop.
A Cartoon By Flannery O'connor
Flannery O'Connor's short stories are really funny, but no one ever talks about that. It might be because the jokes aren't haw-haw jokes, or it might be because the humor is so dark that a lot of people don't have the taste for it.
Nakedness
He thinks: She sees him through the kitchen window taking off his clothes to put in the washer. It's night, past 12; his wife's in bed, going to sleep.
Slave To The Office
I’ve been shitting in L’Tesha Jackson’s desk drawer for months now and I see no reason to stop. I really don’t. See, the thing of it is, it started as this little prank, a sort of dare that a buddy of mine put me up to and that was that.